Tickle My Fancy
by gleefulmusings
Summary: A response series of non-explicit Kurt-centric prompts. Some crossovers, including BtVS, HP, Vampire Diaries, etc. Absolutely no Kurt/Karofsky or Kurt/Blaine, because that's gross.
1. Sight

**Title**: _Sight_

**Author**: gleefulmusings

**Beta**: mysterious_daze

**Fandom**: _Glee_, Season One AU

**Pairing**: Kurt/Mike/Matt

**Rating**: T

**Warning(s)**: Sexual thoughts and language.

**Distribution**: Please ask first. Please do not screencap this story, save it to hard drives, exchange with others, or translate into other languages without written consent.

**Disclaimer**: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, lyrics, etc. are the property of their respective owners. Snippets of dialogue may be incorporated from the original canonical episode(s) and belong to their respective authors/creators. The original characters and plot are the property of the author(s). The author(s) is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended, nor should any be inferred. No profit is being made.

**Author's Note**: This is the start of a new series in which I post replies to prompts given to me. It will be Kurt-centric and of various genres (comedy, drama, angst, etc.) and I will be taking requests, so please include them in your reviews. I won't, however, write porn. For some reason, I can't do it for this fandom yet. But if you have a Kurt/Other prompt, give it to me, along with a few key words or ideas. This is mostly to compel me to write more drabbles and one-shots. I get so caught up with planning and writing multi-chapter stories that it exhausts both me and my muse.

For **jono74656**, who wanted Kurt/Mike/Matt and a Cheerios uniform.

* * *

><p>"Stop staring," Mike hissed under his breath.<p>

"Can't."

"Well, can you at least _try_ not to make it look so obvious?"

Matt was silent for a long moment, a regular occurrence. "No."

"People are starting to notice, dude. Mercedes keeps giving you Diva Glare, Brittany is actually focusing on something, and Santana is smirking."

"She always smirks."

"Yeah, but not when her eyes are traveling from your crotch to Kurt's ass."

"It's an epic ass."

Mike shifted in his chair. "Not the point."

"So the point."

"Not."

"Is. Otherwise you wouldn't be staring at it."

"I'm not."

"Dude, please. We're not in Egypt."

Mike sighed. "It's the uniform."

"Right. The uniform."

"No, really!"

"How many guys are Cheerios? You're not leering at any of them."

"It just hangs on Kurt a lot better," Mike lamely insisted.

"There's nothing hanging on him. He's filling it out."

Mike looked away. "I'm not gay."

Matt shrugged. "Okay. Didn't say you were. Didn't say I was either. I just like looking at him."

"That's pretty gay," Mike said uncertainly.

"No. The way Puckerman is looking at him is gay."

Mike startled and turned toward Puck, who was staring like he was the Big Bad Wolf and Kurt was Red Riding Hood. He blinked.

"Whoa."

Matt raised a brow. "Right?"

"We can't let Puck have him."

"_We_ can't? _Have_ him, is it?"

Mike flushed. "Shut up."

"Not until you admit you want him."

"Not to do…that."

"_That?_"

"I can hear your italics."

"Pretty much the point. Say it."

"I just don't want him with Puck."

"Hm. What about Finn? Kurt's always looking at him, and lately Hudson has been looking back."

"That was the longest sentence I've ever heard you speak."

"I'm full of surprises. I'm like Kurt's crotch that way."

Mike coughed discreetly. "You noticed that?"

"The way it bunches in the front like the stitches are straining? Yeah."

"Do you think…he'd maybe…be interested…"

"And I'm the mute one? I'm pretty sure there's a sentence in there somewhere just dying to get out."

"This is hard for me, okay?"

"Apparently so, if that tent in your pants is any indication."

"You're enjoying this far too much."

"Not really. I just don't get what your problem is. Why can't you just admit you like looking at him?"

Mike screwed up his face. "All _right_! I like looking at him, okay? I like looking at Kurt Hummel! Particularly when he's wearing that damn Cheerios uniform and his spectacular ass is presented like a succulent Easter ham! And I like the way it bunches around his crotch when he sits down! _Okay?_"

Matt blinked. "Yeah, it's fine. I just didn't think you'd announce it like that."

Mike swiveled his head toward the front of the room and noticed that the entire glee club was staring at him. His mouth was suddenly a desert and sweat was dripping down the back of his neck.

Finn was looking at him as though contemplating murder, cracking his knuckles menacingly. Mercedes looked ready to help him.

Puck glared at him jealously.

Artie's eyes were narrowed and flinty. Tina's were glazed.

Rachel was appalled by Mike's sexual harassment of Kurt and was busy calling the EOC on his behalf.

Quinn patted her tummy. "I wonder if my baby's gay. Her father is."

Santana was smirking enough for an entire nation of she-demons.

Brittany's hand had disappeared under her skirt.

Schuester looked like a deer caught in headlights. Or like Pillsbury.

Kurt, who had immediately sat down in surprise, suddenly uncrossed his legs, winked, and gave his admirers a royal wave. "It's even better unwrapped."


	2. Lullaby

For **brellegenana**, who wanted Kurt, Brittany, and baby Beth. Spoilers for _Regionals_.

* * *

><p>"But I don't understand," Brittany said sadly, gazing at Beth through the observation window of the nursery. "Why is Quinn giving her away?"<p>

"She's not giving her away, sweetheart," Kurt said gently, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "She's giving her up."

Brittany frowned. "What's the difference?"

Kurt was quiet for a long while. Brittany counted five whole Mississippis.

"I think the difference is that _giving her away_ implies that Quinn is giving Beth to whoever asked, but that's not the case. She deliberated long and hard about giving Beth to Shelby, making sure Shelby would be the best mother possible, and finally decided it would be what was best for her."

"Best for Quinn or for Beth?"

"Both, I think. Quinn loves her baby so much that she wants her to have the best home possible. Quinn can't give her that, no matter how much she wants to. Her parents are getting a divorce, her mother doesn't have a job, and Quinn is still in high school. She wants to go to college and get an education so that she can have a career which will allow her to provide for her future children. Quinn is making the ultimate sacrifice by placing her child before herself. It's the most unselfish decision she's ever made. I'm very proud of her."

Brittany thought about that and finally decided that Kurt was right. "But what about Puck? He really wants his baby."

Kurt sighed. "I know, and I truly believe Noah's heart is in the right place. He wants to be the father he never had, but he's not thinking clearly. Of course he wants his child; that could only ever be considered a good thing, but he's thinking of what's best for himself, not what's best for Beth. He's not ready to be a father yet, but I think that one day, when he's ready, he'll be a very good one."

She looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

He nodded. "Noah's a good man, Brittany. Or he will be, one day. He still has some growing up to do, but the fact that he loves Beth as much as he does, that he's stood by Quinn longer than any of us thought he was capable, shows that one day he'll be that man."

"I thought you didn't like them."

He shrugged. "I don't have feelings about them one way or the other. They're not my friends, but I don't hate them or wish them ill-will. Maybe that's why I'm able to view the situation more objectively. I understand how Puck feels; I'd want to claim my child, too. But I also recognize what Quinn is going through. It wouldn't be fair to keep a baby when you can't properly care for her."

Brittany sighed and returned to gazing at Beth. "She's so beautiful."

Kurt smiled and nodded. "She is, just like her parents."

"I want a baby," she whispered.

"I do, too. Someday."

She ducked her head. "I don't think Santana does."

"Well," he said slowly, "that's her decision, just like wanting a baby is yours. We're only sixteen, sweetheart. Santana may change her mind."

Brittany nodded, but doubted that he was right. It was rather shocking to her, that Kurt might be wrong about something. "When we're grown up, and if it's just us, will you have a baby with me?"

He leaned over and kissed her nose. "I can't think of a better mother."

She placed her head on his shoulder, took his hand in hers, and let him guide them away.

Puck and Quinn emerged from the shadowy corner, tears streaking down both their faces as they watched the pair leave.

"We've made some really bad decisions," Quinn said quietly, regretting every unkind comment she had ever uttered about Kurt and Brittany.

"Yeah," he agreed, "but giving Beth to Shelby isn't one of them."

She looked up at him and gave him a searching look. "Really?"

He nodded once, swiftly. "Hummel…_Kurt_…was right. As much as I love her, I'm not ready. I'm sorry I pressured you."

"He was right that you'll one day be a good father, too," she murmured.

"I hope so."

"I know so."


	3. Cupid

This one is for 78Kori, who wanted Kurt, clueless McDapperhead, and some interested Warblers, along with matchmaking Santana. Hope this lives up to your expectations, darling! It was an awesome prompt. Blaine doesn't come off very well here, which is kind of the point, and also because I don't like him. Also, bonus Sue!

And to clovrboy, I'm working on your Kurt/Wincest prompt, but it's turning out much longer than I had anticipated. When it's done, I'll probably post it as its own story.

* * *

><p>Kurt was barely managing to keep his eyes from rolling as he fell into step and mouthed the backing vocals to Blaine's latest masturbatory fantasy that he was, in fact, Katy Perry. He had found that no one else even noticed that he wasn't bothering to sing, which was a little disconcerting. Still, it also gave him a sense of power, like he had mastered the art of faking the orgasm or something.<p>

He wondered if he should share his opinion that Blaine's dancing skills were somewhere between that of Finn and a toaster oven. He finally decided that it wouldn't be welcome news, but the truth was always hard to hear.

He didn't understand how he'd ever thought himself in love with Blaine. It was fairly clear that there was only room in Blaine's life for Blaine himself. Sure, Blaine was a nice guy, but he was more interested in how others perceived him than he was in being an actual person. He was a lot like Finn that way, which just brought up all kinds of gross comparisons that he really could've done without.

He repressed a sigh and, not for the first time, wished he was closer to his other Warblers. Many thought he had transferred to Dalton to be with Blaine, which was not only ridiculous, but offensive. He would never do something so rash and expensive just to enter the orbit of a crush. It hadn't helped that Blaine had been a little possessive of him ever since he had arrived.

Actually, that was putting it mildly. Blaine had all put blazing orange cones around Kurt's person to ward off potential loiterers. Any time Kurt began a conversation with one of the other boys, Blaine eagerly stepped in to take over or to spirit Kurt away for coffee. Kurt knew it frustrated the others, particularly Wes and David, and that they were most frustrated that Kurt himself always meekly deferred to Blaine. It was like Blaine had peed on him and marked Kurt as his.

Kurt didn't understand why he checked his backbone around Blaine. He had never acted like such a nervous, spineless lackwit, even when the insanity with Karofsky was at its height, so why was he doing it now? Blaine wasn't interested in him - that was patently obvious - and even if that weren't the case, Kurt didn't want to be the type of person who altered themselves and became entirely different when their potential significant other was around.

As much as he disliked Rachel, he gave her credit for not hiding her boatload of crazy from Finn. In fact, his presence only seemed to aggravate her lunacy. It was nice when two escaped mental patients found love, he supposed. He hoped their future was bright and contained lots of lithium.

Wow. Blaine really _was_ short. It struck Kurt as odd that he found Blaine appealing. He had always been attracted to boys who were taller than him. Of course, he was now fairly tall himself. He would never be the mighty sequoia that Finn was, but he was now able to look Puck in the eye. Part of his attraction to taller guys was that he had felt safe with them, like he was protected. Then those episodes with Karofsky had happened. He wondered if that had turned him off jocks forever.

Kurt didn't understand his attraction to Blaine at all. Sure, Blaine was very cute, but he looked like a Keebler Elf with baby vampire teeth and a Brillo pad for hair. He couldn't even posit the eyebrow situation. And it was all fine, but Blaine just wasn't the type of guy he had pictured himself with. Blaine had a terrific voice, but Kurt thought Artie's was better. Blaine was masculine, certainly much more than Kurt himself was, and could probably pass as straight; Kurt never could, but then he didn't really want to, even if he thought it might sometimes be easier. Blaine was very dominating, which was something Kurt had always believed he would find comforting, but instead just found suffocating and obnoxious.

Had he just latched on to Blaine as a port in the storm? Because if he had, it was a horrible thing to have done. He couldn't expect another to bear his burdens, and it was unfair of him to demand that Blaine fix what ailed his life. Of course, there was also the fact that despite that Blaine gave off an officious and knowledgeable air, he was just as clueless as any other boy their age and gave the worst advice ever. But Kurt had taken that advice, without debating its merits with anyone else, and therefore the results were no one's fault but his own.

He should have never confronted Karofsky; it was merely the opening for which the other boy had been looking. He should have trusted Mr. Schuester and Coach Sylvester with the truth of what Karofsky had done to him; he knew they would have cared, even if his friends wouldn't have. He had been too hasty in transferring to Dalton. The school was nice enough and he did feel safe, but other than the challenging curriculum which he secretly adored, he wasn't enjoying his time there. He had no real friends other than Blaine, and every time he spoke with someone from McKinley, he was sharply reminded that he no longer fit in there.

He didn't fit in anywhere.

He hadn't known it was possible for him to be more lonely, yet he was. He missed his friends.

Then the door was thrown open and a devil in a red cheerleading uniform sauntered in.

* * *

><p>Kurt said nothing as Santana strolled up to the stage, ascended the stairs, and eye-fucked every boy in the vicinity. Finally, she stood before him.<p>

"Bellatrix," he said in a neutral voice.

She smirked up at him as she stared deeply into his eyes. "Homolicious," she purred. "You look good."

"Naturally."

She conceded his point with a nod.

"To what do I owe this unparalleled honor?"

She gave a mild shrug and looked around innocently, fooling everyone but Kurt himself. "Sylvester is running amok around campus, terrifying the Hogwarts staff, so I thought I'd check in and see how things were going. I've kept abreast of the latest developments, but I really had to see them for myself." She cocked her head. "So which one of these Dead Poets Society rejects is Fairy Potter?"

Blaine smiled winningly and gave a small wave.

Santana curled a lip and looked back to Kurt, silently demanding an explanation. His returning look clearly indicated that he had no idea.

She shook her head. "That won't do at all." She blinked. "Oh, by the way."

He raised a brow, but the words on his lips died as she grabbed the lapels of his blazer and pulled him into a searing kiss. His minimal protest segued into a long, guttural groan as he closed his eyes, yanked sharply on her ponytail, and shoved his tongue into her mouth. She squealed her approval and hooked a slender leg around his ridiculously tiny waist.

The other Warblers had absolutely no idea what was going on, who the foxy lady was, or what to do about the situation, so they merely stood by and watched, some of them quite avidly.

Blaine blinked. "What?"

But Kurt and Santana continued unabated. Just as it looked as though someone would have to fetch some scuba gear or a fire extinguisher, Kurt viciously tweaked a nipple and Santana shrieked her kudos, inadvertently tearing her mouth from Kurt's own.

"I missed you," she whispered.

He smirked. "You never wrote."

She shrugged, pulled out a lipstick from only God knew where, and reapplied. "You never answer my sexts."

"There are only so many hours in a day. How is everyone?"

"Do you really care?"

"No, but you can tell them I asked."

"Manners are important," she agreed.

"How would you know?"

"Touché."

"Now," he continued, clearing his throat, "what can I do for you?"

Her smirk was filthy.

"Besides that."

She pouted spectacularly and finally sighed. "I really _did_ just want to make sure you were okay. We worry, you know."

"I know," he said softly, intertwining their fingers. "I missed you, too."

"Um, Kurt?" Blaine interrupted, his voice small and confused.

Santana watched through a narrowed gaze as her best friend's face blanked and the light in his eyes dimmed. She didn't know Blaine, but that didn't stop her from despising him. He had stolen her Rainbow and made Brittany cry. Those were capital offenses. She decided to express her displeasure.

"So you're Bland," she greeted.

"Blaine," he forcefully corrected, smiling all the while.

"I was referencing your personality, not your name."

He didn't know how to respond to that, or to his friends' resulting chuckles, so he said nothing.

She began prowling around, dragging Kurt with her. Finally she deposited him next to Blaine, cocked her head, considered them, and sighed.

"This isn't going to work."

She again dragged Kurt away, leaving a dumbfounded Blaine in her wake. She next pushed Kurt up against another Warbler.

"You're Nick?"

The terrified boy nodded.

She looked at Kurt. "You were right. He's adorable."

Nick blushed and looked down at the floor, a small smile on his face.

"There are benefits to fucking your roommate," she told them. "The two of you together would be hot. The hits on Xtube alone could bring in lots of revenue."

"It could also cause warrants to be issued for our arrests," Kurt countered. "Child pornography is a serious crime."

She shrugged. "True enough. And if it didn't work out, you would still have to live together. Things could get sticky, and not in the awesome way that sheets can get sticky."

Kurt nodded. Nick swallowed heavily.

"You could still make out, though," she insisted.

"We could do that!" Nick cheerfully agreed.

Kurt gave him the side-eye and a hard appraisal.

"What?" asked a panicked Blaine.

"Let's see the rest of the assortment this box of eye candy offers." With that, she again pulled Kurt away and threw him at Jeff, whose arms instantly wrapped around Kurt to steady him.

Kurt blushed lightly and Jeff smiled at him.

"Not bad," Santana said, nodding. "I'd definitely be interested in purchasing tickets to this show."

"Standing room only," Jeff volleyed.

"Witty too," she said. "Or what passes for wit around here. I doubt you're up to Rainbow's level of verbal slaughter."

"Few are," Jeff said ruefully.

She looked at Kurt. "At least he acknowledges his betters. He can be trained."

"He's not a puppy, darling," Kurt scolded.

"Does that mean you don't want to spank him?"

"What part of my statement conveyed that idea?"

Jeff held Kurt tighter against him.

"He's blond," she said quietly.

Kurt stiffened. "I know."

"He's asked about you. A lot."

Kurt looked away.

"Sam?" Blaine demanded. "Sam doesn't even know him!"

Santana glared at him. "And you do? Bitch, please. You haven't even scratched the surface. Now shut up before I reach into your face hole, rip out your vocal cords, and strangle you with them."

He shuddered and fell silent.

"Is she single?" Jeff whispered to Kurt.

"At the moment," Kurt murmured, "but what about us? Are you over me already?"

Jeff grinned. "Threesome?"

"I'm not opposed to that idea."

"Awesome."

"Thanks for playing along," Kurt said softly.

"Not playing. I like you, Kurt. I want you to be happy. All of us do. We could just never get you away from Blaine long enough to tell you that."

Kurt rubbed Jeff's hand tenderly. "Thank you."

Santana dragged him away yet again, giving Jeff flirty eyes. He winked back. She pushed Kurt at David. She shook her head. "Like Aretha, but with less balls."

"Santana," Kurt hissed.

"Hey," she shrugged, "if you want to get your Mandingo on, I'm certainly not going to stop you. David here is a hot piece. I wouldn't mind a round or two myself. Perhaps on monkey bars or in a church confessional."

David's eyes glazed.

"But you two would never work, Rainbow," she told Kurt. "You need an equal. You need someone who's both intelligent and an intellectual. You need someone who understands your bitchery because they're a huge bitch themselves. You need someone who can stand up to you and who won't placate you to shut you up. You need someone talented and driven, but whose desire to succeed fuels your own, rather than holding you back or oppressing you. You need someone equally as hot as you so that I'm not put off while I'm fapping."

"A tall order, indeed," he acknowledged.

"Not really. In fact, there's only person for the job." She turned and smiled evilly. "Hello, Wesley. How's your gavel?"

Wes blinked. "Rigid and weighty."

Her eyes lighted. "I like him. He knows how to play this game."

"Santana," Kurt whispered.

She opened her mouth was beaten to the punch as Wes pushed her out of the way, grabbed Kurt, and pressed a scorching kiss to his lips.

"Outstanding," Santana purred.

Several of the Warblers cheered. Blaine did not.

Kurt finally pulled away, albeit reluctantly. "Wes?"

"I've wanted you from the moment your sweet ass strolled in here to spy," Wes growled. "I thought I had you figured out, that if I treated you like Chola Barbie over there does, you'd get it." He swallowed nervously. "I didn't realize you also needed someone to treat you like the amazing guy you are. I'm sorry it took me so long to put it together."

Kurt ran his tongue over his swollen, pink lips, making Wes pant with excitement. "You don't have to do this."

"I'd regret it for the rest of my life if I didn't try."

Kurt smiled shyly and ducked his head.

Blaine's mouth opened and closed several times in confusion and consternation, though he held his silence.

The door was once again thrown open and a velociraptor in a track suit stormed inside.

"Porcelain!"

"Good afternoon, Coach." He cocked his head. "I approve of your new track suit. The color brings out the rage in your eyes."

She preened. "Pay attention, Porcelain. I've performed a thorough search of this institution and offer it a preliminary Sue Seal of Approval. The academics are overblown but adequate, much like those teased follicles Endora insists is a hairstyle. However, I'm very concerned about the lack of physical activity."

"Dalton offers various sports, with both sponsored and intramural teams!" Blaine protested.

Sue looked down her nose at the offending Monchichi. "Did I take a wrong turn and end up in the Shire?"

Santana and Kurt did an excellent job of not laughing.

"Never speak to me again without permission," Sue barked at Blaine. "Which will never be granted because your hair looks like that suspicious mass that was clogging my drain last week. And to think that, for once, William was not responsible. Shave it off and start over." She turned back to the rest of her adoring audience. "Sport is merely a monosyllabic euphemism for cheerleading. This school has no squad. Clearly it is un-American and I will be conducting inquiries with Homeland Security."

Kurt nodded as if this made complete sense.

"Have you kept up with your routines?" she howled at him.

He raised a brow, gently pushed himself away from Wes, and then launched into a dizzying series of flips, somersaults, roundoffs, and cartwheels, all while holding a note which the others realized was a High A over C. Kurt performed it in full voice and sustained it for over a minute.

Sue grudgingly nodded. "Acceptable. Now, what about your pathetic love life?"

Kurt executed a series of back flips and landed once again at Wes's side, beaming at him.

"So you've got yourself a Gaysian," Sue surmised. "You could do worse. He'll probably help boost the math portion of your SATs. Just make sure that when you go out on your little excursions, you do all the driving. Also, chopsticks are for sissies."

Kurt nodded solemnly. "Noted."

"Excellent." She paused. "Your happiness matters. Not to me, but to other people."

"Understood."

She nodded. "Outstanding." She turned toward Santana. "Lopez! Let's get going. The stench of weakened testosterone and pretension is making me nauseous. Either that, or I'm pregnant. Regardless, if I don't get out of here immediately, something will die bloody."

She barreled right out of the door, Santana hot on her heels, blowing Kurt a kiss and miming a blowjob.

"What the hell was that?" Nick wondered.

"That was Sue Sylvester," Kurt said.

"I thought she was just an urban legend," David whimpered.

Kurt shook his head. "She's real and, like poly-cotton blend, terrifying."

"You're very flexible," Wes purred.

"I can put my legs behind my head."

"This is the beginning of a beautiful relationship."


	4. Waffles

Kurt stared at the outside of the restaurant, his face fixed in absolute horror.

People _dined_ here?

He could only imagine they somehow had been coerced into doing so.

He immediately noticed at least three probable health code violations, and he had yet to reach the front door!

His nose scrunched. What on earth was that noxious odor? It smelled like burned meat and...and oppression. Or like Finn's bedroom closet.

"I need to lie down," he murmured, hand clutching his stomach.

This was worse than the time his father had told him that they were going to the Nordstrom in Cincinnati, only to end up at the local Wal-Mart.

Kurt gave a despairing sigh. He had been so hopelessly naive when he was five.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," he whispered under his breath, shaking his head. "I took a sacred vow when I was seven never to enter this alleged place of business."

He shuddered slightly and then forced his mouth into a sneer. He would not be stopped by the legions of unwashed massed which patronized this establishment nor the staph infection he was sure to contract as a result of this visit. He was Kurt Hummel, and he could do anything.

Squaring his shoulders, he nodded to himself and began to strut toward the entrance. Calmly removing a handkerchief from the pocket of his blazer, he used it to open the front door and stormed inside, his eyes narrowed in search of his party.

"Welcome to Denny's. Can I help you?"

Kurt automatically flinched at the appalling grammar, but gave points to the speaker for her conciliatory tone. He repressed a sigh.

"Yes, please. I'm meeting someone for breakfast."

"Your party's name?"

"Noah Puckerman."

Her eyes lighted and she giggled maliciously. "Oh, so _you're_ Puck's Mystery Date. I thought you'd be prettier."

Kurt's eyes widened at this egregious insult and scoffed. "I am certainly not his date. I'd rather swallow glass, which, I suppose, might happen, depending on what I order here."

Her eyes narrowed. "He's around the corner, third booth on the left," she said coldly, with a tilt of her head.

He nodded. "Thank you," he said, before swiftly taking his leave, "and might I add that your Lee Press-On nails are particularly attractive, especially their dark red color. Did you paint them with virgin's blood? I wouldn't be surprised. It goes well with your designer imposter body spray. Pity I'm not a smoker, else I'd have a lighter handy."

He then stomped away in the direction she had indicated, leaving her gaping and struggling for a retort. Kurt suddenly felt so much better about, well, everything.

He barreled towards his target and gracefully plopped down on the bench.

"Noah," he said briskly, nodding a greeting. "I am here, as I said I would be. Please explain what is so important that we couldn't discuss this on the phone, or preferably through an interpreter fluent in Neanderthal."

Puck smirked. "Good to see you, too."

Kurt huffed and waved a dismissive hand. "Yes, yes, it's lovely to see you. How is your mother? Your sister? Your dubious hairstyle? Are we all caught up, then? Excellent."

Puck rolled his eyes. "Christ, Hummel, will you chill the fuck out?"

Kurt growled low in his throat, and Puck's eyes widened in response. "This is not a meeting between friends, Noah. Just tell me what you want so that I can leave and head to the nearest decontamination shower."

Puck gave him a hard look. "You really do hate me, don't you?"

Kurt startled and blinked owlishly. "I don't hate you," he said slowly, his surprise at the turn of the conversation evident, "but, no, I don't like you."

Puck nodded. "I don't blame you. I wouldn't like me either, if I were you."

Kurt was incredulous. "What is this about?" he demanded.

"Why do you call me Noah?" Puck asked, turning evasive.

Kurt, thrown, shook his head slightly to clear it. "It's your name," he said blankly.

"But you never called me that before, not even when we were kids. Why the change?"

"I'm not sure," he finally confessed, exhaling loudly. "If pressed, I suppose I would argue that I no longer see you as just Puck."

Puck leaned forward, so slightly that Kurt almost missed the movement. "Why?"

Kurt was surprised, and not a little wary, at the tinge of desperation in the other boy's voice. He shrugged it off. "Noah, why am I here?"

Puck sighed. "I fucked up. Again."

Kurt raised a brow. "How?"

Puck picked at his cuticles and sullenly glared at the jukebox in the opposite corner. "Made out with Berry."

"I know."

"You do?" asked a floored Puck. "And you came anyway?"

"Curiosity has always been one of my vices," Kurt replied, shrugging. He paused briefly. "Your message sounded as though you really needed to speak with someone. I don't know why you reached out to me, but I'd like to think that if the situations were reversed, you'd have shown up."

"I would have," Puck said immediately. "Maybe not before, maybe not even a few months ago, but I would now."

Kurt nodded. "I thought as much. Do you want to talk about what happened?"

Puck nodded slowly, staring down at his curled fists.

"Then I need some coffee," Kurt said, flagging down a waitress. "I suppose I'm willing to risk possible food contamination for the sake of your well-being."

The corners of Puck's mouth quirked up in what was perhaps the most genuine smile Kurt had ever seen from the boy.

* * *

><p>"How much do you know?" Puck asked, after a healthy slug of orange juice.<p>

Kurt delicately sipped his coffee before replacing it in the saucer. "More than I would care to, I assure you."

Puck was silent for several moments. "Aren't you on Finn's side? You're brothers now."

Kurt raised a brow. "And your relationship with Grace is always rainbows and kittens?"

Puck snorted. "Point taken."

"To answer your question, I am not, in this instance, on Finn's side."

Puck's eyes widened. "Really?"

Kurt nodded. "Truly."

"Why not?"

"I'm not on anyone's side, Noah. This doesn't involve me, and I actually feel quite sad for those it does. What Rachel did was wrong, yes, and she never should have involved you." His eyes narrowed. "Along those same lines, you should've known better than to go along with it. I expected more from you."

Puck nodded guiltily, and Kurt was surprised to see a slight blush staining the other boy's cheeks.

"Finn, however, instigated all of this by covering up the fact that he slept with Santana," Kurt continued. "Yes, Rachel falsely confessed to sleeping with Jesse just for the sake of hurting Finn, which I in no way condone; however, she also later admitted her lie."

"How did you know that?" Puck asked.

"Finn told me. When he did, I encouraged him to tell Rachel that he had, in fact, lost his virginity to Santana. As usual, though, he ignored my advice."

"I'm just shocked as all hell that Satan didn't crow about it when it first happened. Normally she sends out mass texts," Puck said.

"There was nothing about which to crow," Kurt said waspishly.

Puck raised an eyebrow.

"Of course she told me," said an exasperated Kurt. "She's one of my best friends, Noah."

Puck's mouth fell open. "No fucking way."

Kurt smirked and nodded. "Way. It's not something we publicize, and we probably wouldn't admit to it unless threatened with Chinese water torture, and perhaps not even then, but we're quite close."

Puck couldn't help but stare.

"Their encounter was unremarkable," Kurt prattled on, "and while her recitation of the facts almost compelled me to shove pencils into my ears, I felt bad for both of them. Santana, for whatever reason, feels she needs to extend sexual favors to control herself and others, while Finn learned the hard way that sex without love is ultimately meaningless."

Puck didn't have much to say about that and averted his eyes.

"I understand why Rachel was so hurt and why she acted out," Kurt added, "but to do what she did, and with you of all people, was masterfully cruel. I was truly surprised you participated in such a farce."

"Yeah, well, I do stupid shit all the time and don't even realize it's stupid until it's too late."

Kurt nodded. "So was it about hurting Finn, hurting Rachel, or hurting yourself?"

Puck raised his eyes and stared into Kurt's own.

"You're not that deep, Noah," Kurt said, smiling to take some of the bite from his words. "It's not terribly difficult to figure you out." He sighed. "I've never understood your relationship with Finn. You seem to bring out the worst traits in each other. I don't believe it's a simple matter of jealousy, nor can it be easily dismissed as opposites attracting or birds of a feather flocking. Honestly, I have no idea why you two bother to interact at all. It brings neither of you any measure of comfort or peace."

"Like Jones does for you?" Puck asked knowingly.

Kurt glared for a moment before giving a slight nod. "Good one. It's no surprise, I'm sure, that my relationship with Mercedes has been rocky of late."

"Because of Dalton?"

"Because of Blaine."

"Ah. She finally figured out that you being gay means you actually want to date boys?"

Kurt waved a dismissive hand. "It's not just that, but it's a large part of it."

Puck nodded and dropped the subject. "Do you think Finn's right about me? That I'm just a douche?"

Kurt's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. "Noah, please ignore anything Finn says unless it's about which condiments go with which lunchmeats. He's not right; he's self-righteous."

"What's the difference?"

Kurt snorted. "If anyone has the right to judge you, it's me, not Finn. He was in a committed relationship with Rachel and lied about his sexual history. That's wrong. I could say many things about you, and, in fact, I have, but I don't believe you would do something like that."

Puck scoffed. "Why bother? Everyone knows my business."

"Because you put it out there," Kurt countered. "But if you were to pursue a serious relationship with a girl, would you lie deliberately about something so crucial?"

Puck thought about the question for a considerable amount of time. "I don't think so," he finally said. "At least, I hope I wouldn't."

Kurt nodded. "Finn is not an innocent in this, and despite how he's painted the picture, he knows it. He's embarrassed and ashamed, and, as usual, he seeks to blame others for his own failings. Santana certainly didn't force herself on him. No one made him lie to Rachel." He paused. "And I'm sure we've both noticed the attention he's been paying Quinn lately."

Puck's eyes flared with indignation. "I thought I was the only one who saw it!" he exclaimed.

Kurt shook his head sadly. "We both know what will happen, and there's nothing we can do to stop it. Hopefully Quinn will insist on birth control this time. Unfortunately, I believe Sam will find himself in the position Finn was in last year, only this time, Finn will have engineered it."

"So Hudson will do to Evans what I did to him," Puck mumbled, "and probably won't take any responsibility for it." He shook his head. "Evans is a good guy."

"He is," Kurt agreed, "and he deserves better than this, but it's out of our hands. If you tried to discuss it with him, he'd think you were jealous and attempting to undermine his relationship with Quinn. I don't know Sam very well, and I don't consider us friends, so I don't believe a warning from me would amount to much. Regardless, I feel badly for him."

"What happened with that whole duet thing?" Puck asked. "When I got out of juvie, people were talking about it, but no one really knew the score."

Kurt sighed, gripped his coffee cup in both hands, and stared down into its contents. "Finn interfered," he said quietly.

"Well, let me put on my Big Surprise Face!"

Kurt laughed, and Puck appeared considerably cheered that he had accomplished such a feat.

After a little prodding, Kurt confessed the details and everything Finn had said to him, as well as how his own father had sided with Finn.

Puck looked thunderous. "You know that's bullshit, right? I don't know Evans well, but he wouldn't have agreed to sing with you if he didn't want to do it. I can't believe you fell for that."

Kurt squawked.

"Oh, come on, Duchess. You really can't see what Hudson was trying to do? He didn't want you to sing with Evans because he was either jealous of you singing with another guy, or he was jealous of his new friend singing with a dude who wasn't him. It had nothing to do with who's gay or what people would say or whatnot. What the fuck would people say, anyway? It's not like it was an open competition. Unless someone from the club blabbed, who would know?"

Kurt stared at him, feeling quite stupid for not seeing through Finn's rather pitiful ruse.

"What did he think would happen?" Puck continued. "You and Evans would sing some Air Supply song and make out in the middle of the performance?" He smirked. "That probably would've been hot," he mused. "Might've given Hudson some idea of how to kiss."

"You're obnoxious," Kurt hissed, fighting the blush crawling up his neck.

Puck cocked his head and considered the other boy. "Do you like Evans?"

Kurt gave a diffident shrug. "I don't even know him, Noah, but I believe what you're really asking is whether or not I'm attracted to him. The answer is that I find Sam to be very attractive, but I also know he's straight. I'm not going down that road again."

"Because of Fairy Potter?"

Kurt snickered, but quickly sobered. "There's nothing romantic between Blaine and myself. He's a friend and nothing more. If something happened later down the line, I might be interested, but I might not be. Right now, it's just nice having a friend who also happens to be gay. Besides, he's really not my type."

"Is Finn your type?" Puck softly asked.

"No," Kurt said. "Whatever feelings I once had for Finn were ones I manufactured to fit my idea of the person I wanted him to be, not who he actually was. Looking back on my behavior, I'm mortified. I certainly don't blame Finn for being uncomfortable around me."

"He was an ass," Puck said. "He never told you no or to get lost or anything, like he would've if you were a girl. He certainly didn't have a problem running to you every time he got butthurt over something or to dump all his problems in your lap."

"True," Kurt said slowly, surprised that Puck had known that Finn had indeed acted in that manner, "but that doesn't excuse my pursuit of him, either. I knew he was straight. I knew I was slightly unhinged in my approach toward him."

Puck sucked his teeth. "He told me about the thing in the basement. He was a total dick to you. I don't know how you stand to be around him. Of all the shit I put you through, I never called you that word."

"No, you didn't," Kurt quietly agreed. "You did far worse to me."

Puck gave an exaggerated blink and stared at Kurt. "What? What do you mean?"

"I don't think we should get into that at this time," Kurt said. "I shouldn't have brought it up. Let's discuss something else."

"No," Puck said stubbornly. "I want to discuss _this_ right now. How could I have done anything worse than what he called you?"

Kurt gripped the table with both hands, so hard that his knuckles turned white. "Fine," he said eventually, after releasing a long, slow breath. "Finn wasn't the first to call me that, Noah, and he certainly won't be the last. I admit that it hurt - a lot - coming from him, but I know that what he said was mostly out of fear and confusion; and, yes, anger. No, he hasn't sufficiently apologized for it, because he doesn't even understand why he said it or why it hurt me as much as it did."

He looked up and stared into Puck's eyes. "But you did. You terrorized me from the time we were six years old, Noah. You humiliated me at every opportunity. You gossiped about me to our classmates. You insulted my looks, my voice, my clothes, my grades, and my parents. I will never forget when we were in third grade and I heard you whisper to Matt that my mother probably died to get away from me."

Puck drew in a sharp breath and looked away.

"And I believed that. For a very long time. I blamed myself for her death, not the cancer. It took me years to get over that, and I don't know if I ever fully will, because, thanks to you, there's always a little voice in the back of my head that hisses that perhaps it was true, that she died because I was so awful a son."

He held up a hand to stave off the interruption he knew was coming. "But that's not the worst of what you've done to me. You may have never called me that word, Noah, but you called me gay for as long as I can remember. You called me gay before I even knew what the word meant, before I even realized that it was applicable to me. It was from you that I learned that being gay was wrong, something dirty, something of which to be ashamed and to hide from others. You taught me self-loathing."

"Kurt..."

"I'm not finished. You opened this can of worms, and I've waited a long time to say these things. You will do me the courtesy of allowing me my piece. You owe me at least that much."

Puck nodded miserably and stared down at the floor.

Kurt cleared his throat. "I don't know what I ever did to you, what I ever said, that could explain why you hated me so much. I can't tell you how many nights I lied awake wondering, wishing I could go back in time and stop myself from doing whatever, as well as what I could do to make you leave me alone. You turned entire grades against me. Any friend I ever had, you drove away because they were too afraid they would be made to suffer the same abuse, and make no mistake, Noah, that's exactly what it was.

"You have no idea how much you've hurt me, and I don't mean just physically, but let's talk about that for a minute. Every single day, you hit me. Whether it was a punch, or a kick, or throwing me into a dumpster, you made it your mission to inflict as much pain on me as possible without getting arrested for it. I lost count of the number of bruises and cuts and scrapes and sprains you've caused. And, for the longest time, I felt that I deserved them. That, for whatever I did or didn't to you, that whoever I was or might become, was so objectionable, that I deserved to be hurt."

Kurt gathered in a shaky breath. "Do you know why I never shorts, Noah? Why I never undressed in the locker room? Because my thighs are covered with scars, ones I made, because all of those nights I sat up, wondering why you despised me, I would cut myself to relieve some of the anger and shame."

"Oh, god," Puck choked, gagging on bile as his hand flew up to cover his mouth.

"I'm not telling you this to hurt you," Kurt said softly. "Truly, I'm not, and I'm not blaming you for what I did. I'm telling you this because you need to understand that your actions have consequences, and long-lasting ones, at that. Because of you, I have never felt safe at school. I've never turned to teachers for help, because they saw how you treated me and they never interfered, and I knew they never would."

Kurt rolled his neck. "What I'm about to tell you, no one else knows, and I would appreciate it if you didn't spread it around."

Puck nodded. At this point, he would do anything Kurt told him to do, including jumping off the nearest cliff.

"The real reason I left McKinley was not because Karofsky was harassing me."

Puck's brow furrowed.

"He was sexually harassing me."

Puck stilled and all the blood drained from his face. "What?" he croaked.

"One day, it just got so bad that I couldn't take it anymore," Kurt said. "I followed him into the locker room and demanded he tell me what his problem with me truly was, because I believed that he, like you, was just scared of what he didn't understand, when the truth was he understood all too well." He paused. "He...he grabbed me..."

Puck felt as though he would vomit at any moment.

"And he kissed me," Kurt finished. "I was horrified. I was so shocked, I didn't know what to do or say, so I did nothing, which only served to encourage him. When he tried to kiss me again, I pushed him and ran away." He closed his eyes. "I was so scared," he whispered. "I was terrified. If he had wanted more, he could've taken it, and there was nothing I could have done to stop him. But it didn't end there. He began stalking me. He threatened me. He groped me whenever he had the chance. He stole the cake topper at my father's wedding. He was so fearful that I might tell someone, he threatened to kill me if I ever did. And I knew that he meant it."

Puck trembled violently.

"So I didn't tell anyone," Kurt continued, "because I knew that either they wouldn't believe me, or they would think that, because I'm gay, I deserved it."

"And you thought that because of me, because of how I treated you," Puck whispered.

"Yes."

Puck cringed.

"Because of you, I flinch whenever I hear a locker door slam. Because of you, I tremble when anyone touches me. Because of you, I shut my eyes whenever I see someone with a slushy in their hands. Because of you, whenever I see a balloon, I automatically think that I'm about to be doused with urine. Because of you, whenever I see a boy on the street, I immediately cross to the other side or seek out a group of people.

"Because of you, I hesitate to answer my phone. Because of you nailing my patio furniture to my roof, I realized that I'm not even safe in my own home."

Kurt calmly picked up his coffee and took a long drink before setting it back down, ignoring the fat tears streaking down Puck's cheeks.

"You may never have called me that word, Noah, but you gifted me with a legacy filled with self-doubt, self-recrimination, second-guessing, and physical and emotional pain. You, Noah, taught me how to fear."

"Oh, _fuck_," Puck whispered, turning to stare out the window.

"You have no idea how difficult it was for me to come here today, to a place with which I am unfamiliar, to be alone with you. As it is, I texted Tina, Artie, Blaine, and my father with the time and address, in case I didn't make it home."

"Oh, Kurt," Puck warbled.

"None of that," Kurt said. "I came because you needed to talk to someone, and if you were reaching out to me, I knew that it was serious. I'm now able to differentiate between Puck and Noah. Earlier you asked me how I managed to do this. Well, it's simple.

"I watched Noah very carefully last year. I watched as Noah lost his best friend and the girl he loved because of his own selfish choices. I watched as Noah made his penance and tried to make up for his mistakes, clumsily perhaps, but with a sincere effort. I watched as Noah did the most unselfish thing anyone could possibly do: give up his child so that she would have a better life."

Puck turned back, his eyes filled with such sincere, aching sorrow, but also with hope.

"When Finn told me what happened with Rachel, I knew that it was Noah who had erred, not Puck. I knew that it was Noah who regretted, probably instantly, what he had done. And I knew that it was Noah who texted me last night. That's why I came. Because I'd like the opportunity to get to know Noah, and I believe Noah can be a good man if he just gives himself the chance."

"I don't know how," Puck whispered, shaking his head.

"You start by making the conscious choice to be more than you were. You accept the fact that you will, on occasion, fail. No one is perfect, Noah. The most you can expect from yourself is to do your best. You make yourself a promise that you're going to be a better person. You can't make that promise to anyone else. You sincerely have to want to change. And if that's what you want to do, then I'm happy to help you in any way I can."

"_Why?_" Puck asked beseechingly. "Why would you do that for me after everything I've done to you?"

"Because I forgave you a while ago."

"You can't!" Puck cried, frantically shaking his head. "I don't deserve it!"

Kurt shrugged. "That's not up to you. That's _my_ choice, and I won't allow you to take it from me."

"I think I've taken more than enough," Puck hissed sharply.

Kurt smiled. "Puck would never have realized that, but I knew that Noah would. That's why I can forgive Puck, because with each passing day, I see more of Noah than I do of him."

He hesitated, and then reached out to cover Puck's hand with his own, surprised when Puck grabbed it and held on tightly.

"And Noah is someone I'd like to call my friend."

Puck swallowed heavily and nodded. "Can I kill Finn for you?"

Kurt laughed. "Maybe later." He grabbed a menu with disdain. "Do they serve waffles here?"


	5. Words

**Author's Note**: I decided to put my English Lit degree to some use, and this is the result. The analysis presented within is my own, and thus my intellectual property.

* * *

><p>Will ran a hand down his face and stifled a sigh as he was once again forced to bear witness to another diva showdown between Mercedes and Rachel. Such dramas were becoming more and more frequent and he had reached the conclusion that it would take only a handful of further rehearsals before they came to blows. He was only surprised that the girls hadn't scored these encounters with a spaghetti western riff.<p>

He had been hopeful that Finn would be able to corral Rachel and calm her down, for if she would listen to anyone, it would be Finn, but those hopes had been dashed almost immediately. Finn's face was filled with fear and discomfort, and it was apparent he had no intention of involving himself. Unfortunately Kurt was running late, and thus not present to tether Mercedes and drag her screeching rant down from the rafters.

Santana, eager for actual bloodshed, was alternately siding with Mercedes and Rachel while getting in subtle digs at both of them. Brittany was playing cat's cradle with a piece of string she had found tied to Artie's wheelchair; Will didn't care to posit what it had been doing there. Quinn was filing her nails and muttering under her breath; something about how unfair it was that Kurt could do such a better job when he didn't even speak Vietnamese.

Tina frowned at that, but was soon distracted by an incoming text. She glanced down at her phone and smiled before turning to Will and giving a thumbs up.

He wanted to weep with relief. Kurt would soon be there and make the girls behave themselves. Yeah, it was totally pathetic and embarrassing to rely on a sophomore boy to enforce compliance, but he wasn't above doing it, especially because Kurt was the one person who intimidated both Mercedes and Rachel.

The door was thrown open and Kurt pranced inside, prattling on about something or other, and a few of the others gathered looked up with interest or joy. Mercedes and Rachel immediately stopped sniping at each other, Finn heaved a sigh of relief, Tina smirked, Santana looked like someone had popped her balloon, and Puck...

Puck had a look on his face which Will found difficult to qualify, because Puck was currently licking his chops and staring at Kurt like the boy was tiramisu.

What. The. Hell.

Will shook his head to clear it and noticed Kurt wink at him.

"That's ridiculous," Kurt said, continuing his conversation. "While I will concede that Wordsworth's subject is indeed a condemnation of the rampant materialism resulting from the Industrial Revolution, the poem is much more interesting for its construction and not it's message."

Matt stomped in behind him, a look of irritation on his face. "I disagree. His co-option of the trope is intriguing, but ultimately not as satisfying as the substance of his argument."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Said argument would not be nearly as focused were it not for the fact that he adapted the lyrical conventions of the traditional Petrarchan sonnet to convey a nontraditional message."

Matt rolled his neck. "A message that is, in fact, a lamentation of the destruction of nature by man, as well as the Christian God who authorized it. How can you deny how momentous this was, especially given the period in which it was written? Surely you're not arguing that substance is of less import than style."

"What?" Finn murmured.

Mike had a smug look on his face. Not only had Kurt stopped the nuclear holocaust Mercedes and Rachel were about to unleash upon them all, but had also singlehandedly demonstrated that Matt was not mute and was actually quite intelligent.

"Oh, Kurt's good," he whispered, staring at the boy with something akin to adoration.

"Of course I'm not asserting such a ludicrous claim," an appalled Kurt snapped at Matt. "At the same time, you cannot argue that such themes were irregular during the Romantic era; all the notable authors of that time echoed similar sentiments."

Rachel took her seat and proceeded to stare at Kurt and Matt with fascination. Mercedes registered this as a concession to defeat and was pleased. She then kicked back to watch Kurt school yet another pseudo-intellectual who thought he could hold a candle to the brilliance of her boo.

"I'm not debating that," Matt said, shaking his head, "I'm merely pointing out that far too many of the secondary sources argue the literary elements of the poem over the point Wordsworth was trying to make."

Kurt gave a swift nod. "In that case, I agree with you wholeheartedly. However, a third opinion is required." He turned toward the risers. "Brittany, if you would?"

Brittany threw him a dazzling smile and forcefully transferred her cat's cradle to the fingers of a confused Artie before skipping over to join her dolphin.

"I think both of you are correct," she declared with authority. "Wordsworth's careful diction and plain language underscore his exhortation, while his masterful use of poetics underscores the gravity of his feared vision."

Kurt and Matt beamed widely and nodded.

"Huh?" Mercedes asked.

Santana, with a song in her heart and wetness between her legs, crossed her legs, leaned back in her seat, and was content to watch Brittany's genius unfurl before the ignorant plebeians.

"The quatrain of the first octave is clearly an indictment of commerce," Brittany added. "The homoioteleuton of _getting and spending_ echoes the monotony of such a lifestyle, reinforcing the hollowness materialism affords."

Kurt nodded. "An idea furthered by the palpable shift in the rhythm of the first line. The first three feet of the second line can also be read as two dactyls, with the stress falling on the first syllables. Thus do those syllables protract themselves to the point where, by the conclusion of the two spondees, the reader experiences the exhaustion materialism engenders, a subtle manipulation which forces the reader to identify with the exasperation of the persona."

"Absolutely!" Matt said happily. "We, as readers, also fall into the rhythm of the actions, condemning ourselves, in a sense."

Brittany and Kurt gave excited nods, and the three continued chattering gaily.

Puck moaned low in his throat, his cock standing at firm attention as he watched the most recent object of his lustful fantasies expound with abandon on the literary analysis of some piece of bullshit he hadn't bothered to read. He had no idea what the fuck Kurt was talking about, but he also didn't give a rat's ass. Not when Kurt was using really big words and speaking in his insufferable Hermione Granger Voice.

"Humans," Brittany said, "in essence, have become inhumane toward that which makes possible their existence. Wordsworth's use of commoratio reinforces the exigency of the problem, which is supplemented by the asyndeton present in the first six lines."

Santana was experiencing a similar reaction to that of Puck. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to find an empty classroom, drag the three geeks into it with her, and compel this intellectual intercourse to transform into some very pleasing physical results.

"Wordsworth's deliberate omission of conjunctions emphasizes the _disjunction_ between man and nature," Kurt chirped.

"And alienation from nature leads to man's alienation from himself!" Matt said cheerfully.

Kurt and Brittany nodded.

"Yes!" shrieked an enthusiastic Brittany. "It also contributes to a rhythm that imitates the homoioteleuton earlier referenced."

Kurt was absolutely giddy. "Brittany, Matt and I are coauthoring an analysis of the entire poem for the school's literary magazine, and we would be immensely grateful if you would consider joining us."

Matt nodded frantically.

"Sure!" Brittany tinkled. "Should we start now?"

Will cleared his throat, blushing as he did so.

Brittany was crestfallen. "Oh, yeah. We have to do this first."

Rachel's mouth fell open in indignation, and she was about to launch a blistering _apologia_ of all things Glee-related, only for Finn to place his hand on her arm and slowly shake his head, an unsubtle warning Rachel knew to heed. She well knew that nothing angered Kurt more than interference in his intellectual pursuits; they even took a backseat to his desire for solos.

"Hey, Princess," Puck drawled at Kurt, all but oozing smarmy charm.

Kurt wrinkled his nose. "Noah," he carefully returned, giving Puck his best side-eye.

Matt glared at Puck, took Kurt's hand in his, and led them, and Brittany, over to the closest available seats.

Puck's eyes widened with rage. Had Rutherford just staked a claim? In the words of Aretha: _hell to the naw!_

Mike stared at Matt and Kurt as a singular answer to myriad questions he had never planned to ask just presented itself. He then turned to stare at Puck, his cold eyes promising death. It quelled Puck's resentment somewhat, but Mike would be sure to be on the lookout for further interference. If his best friend wanted Kurt, Mike Chang planned to ensure that his best friend _got_ Kurt.

Santana drifted over to join Brittany and the boys, laying an arm across Kurt's shoulders. Rather than being startled, Kurt smiled warmly at her and proceeded to involve her in their conversation.

Mercedes glared at that, but then Brittany caught her gaze and volleyed with a look so fierce, Mercedes instantly backed off.

Will was shaking his head dumbly and finally called the meeting to order, only marginally surprised when the others obeyed.


	6. Magic

**Author's**** Note**: *facepalm* I should have prefaced this chapter with a note prior to posting it, as it seems to be confusing for many people. This installment is a crossover with the BBC series _Merlin_, which has a huge Arthur/Merlin fanbase. This story is a reincarnation fic, with the souls of Merlin, Arthur, and his sister Morgana invested in three _Glee_ characters. If you're unfamiliar with _Merlin_, this probably won't make much sense to you.

I hope this clears up some of the confusion.

* * *

><p>Sam stared at the closed choir room door for several long moments, debating whether or not to open it and enter the room proper.<p>

This relatively recent and constant state of unease, which had started the day he had first set foot in Lima, suddenly increased exponentially. He didn't understand why and resented the spike of fear currently seizing his heart.

What was the big deal? It was just a glee club, and he had already met a lot of the members. Some of them might even become friends.

Still, there was there was nagging sense that going inside that room was going to change his life forever, and he wasn't sure it was worth his time. His life was already pretty good. He had great parents, and though Stacy and Stevie were at their respective annoying ages, he loved them. Why mess with that?

But he was in a new school. He wanted friends and a place to belong. He'd be going out for football soon, maybe find a nice girl to date in a heteronormative and platonic fashion, and he really liked singing, so what was the worst that could happen.

Nodding to himself, he pushed open the door and was immediately assaulted by a hyperactive Finn, which was a well and truly scary thing. Soon, others began chattering happily at him and introducing themselves. He smiled, or hoped he did, but his distraction was approaching epic proportions.

What was that buzzing noise?

He gave an exaggerated blink and slowly turned his head toward a shadowy corner where two brunettes, a boy and girl, had their heads together and were holding a whispered conversation.

And they were glowing.

All Sam could see before him was gold, shining brilliantly and seemingly only at him.

He was dimly aware that the others had fallen silent and were staring at him.

The brunette girl stood and prowled toward him, stopping about eight feet away. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared. "Well, it's about time!" She sneered. "I see you got your teeth fixed this time round."

Sam's eyes widened. _Morgana_. Then that meant...

Rachel and Finn looked at each other in confusion and Mercedes was giving stellar bitchface. Brittany was pale and had a sad smile on her face. The others wondered why Santana was speaking with a British accent.

Then the boy stepped forward and Sam released a strangled sob. Everything, his entire _life_, had just snapped into focus.

"It's you," he gasped. _Oh, Merlin_.

Kurt had tears gathered in his eyes. "We've been waiting so long," he whispered.

"Um, what?" Finn asked.

Sam stared at Kurt, at the pain in his eyes, and wondered who or what had put it there, had persecuted him in this time, because he was going to kill it.

In the next instant, they closed the space between them. Limbs were entangled and passionate kisses, so desperate they left bruises, were exchanged.

Mercedes' eyes bugged out. "The fu..."

Sam and Kurt separated and simultaneously reached over to draw Santana into their embrace, Sam gently kissing her cheek.

They were together again. Nothing else, no one else, mattered.


	7. Summary

**Author's Note**: For Ash, who wanted Kurt to come to Xander's defense against Spike. This is, of course, a crossover between _Glee_ and _Buffy the Vampire Slayer._ Let me also state that I'm a huge Xander fan (no apologies) and I've never liked Spike, who is thus bashed heavily in this chapter. Fair warning.

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><p>Kurt had been studying the school with subtle curiosity ever since he had arrived, looking for any possible reason to discourage Brittany from attending.<p>

Regrettably, he had yet to discover one. The entire affair was run with a ruthless efficiency which was somehow not stifling. There were boundaries in place, but a sense of community and pervasive cheerfulness were also present.

Brittany would flourish here, he was sure.

He was impressed with Buffy and Faith; while he believed the two did not truly like each other, they were united in their dedication to their students. Willow was so enthusiastic and perky that he sometimes wanted to drive a hammer through her skull, but she was otherwise a lovely woman. He had absolutely no idea what she saw in Kennedy.

It had taken more effort than he'd wanted to expend to chase off Dawn and Andrew, who had been giving him big eyes and breathy voice catches from the moment he crossed the threshold. He had been flattered, of course, but uncomfortable. Dawn didn't seem to care that he was gay, while Andrew was unperturbed and disgustingly aroused by Kurt's creative threats. He had finally gotten rid of them with the help of Rupert, with whom he would be sharing dinner that evening.

A slow smirk spread across his face at the thought of the Watcher and all of the exquisite torture he planned to wreak on the older man's delicious body. Not that Rupert would be complaining, of course.

He snapped out of his Happy Naughty Place and smiled brightly when Xander stumbled in to the room. He'd developed a real fondness for the new Watcher and already considered him a good friend.

Xander had been the one to approach Brittany about what she had become. He'd been so kind and patient with her, giving her time and space, and allowing her to ask her many and sometimes nonsensical questions. He had always answered honestly and with great tenderness, which Brittany desperately needed after Santana had been killed by a Polgara demon.

But Tina was working on that. His eyes sparkled at the thought.

"Hey!" Xander grinned. "Finding everything okay?"

Kurt nodded. "Yes, thank you." He paused. "Alexander, I just want to reiterate how much I appreciate how well you've treated Brittany." He swallowed heavily and blinked back tears. "Santana's loss has affected us all, but Brittany especially." He met Xander's eye with grave seriousness. "Thank you."

Neither noticed that Buffy, Faith, Willow, and Spike had entered from the other door, listening keenly, curious about Kurt, whose approval they knew was necessary to ensure Brittany's attendance.

Xander blushed and scratched the back of his neck, uncomfortable with Kurt's sincerity. "I promise I'll look out for her."

"I know," Kurt said. "You're the only reason I'm encouraging her to stay."

"You think she should stay?" Xander asked slowly. "You know she doesn't have to, Kurt, not if she doesn't want to. We'd never force her. We just want her to know her options."

Kurt smiled. "I do know that, and I believe this is the best place for her right now. She thinks so, too. It may not look like it, but Brittany is very determined and incredibly strong-willed. Believe me when I tell you that, while she trusts my opinion, I do not make her decisions for her. That said, I'll be moving here, of course."

Xander's grinned again. "Yeah, I kind of figured. I'm glad. She needs you, and I think you need her."

"Very much," Kurt said softly. "After my father died, I don't think I would have survived the grief without her. Santana and Quinn were wonderful, of course, as were Tina, Artie, Finn, and Sam, but Brittany got me through the worst of it."

Buffy felt her heart clinch and her eyes welled as she thought of her mother. She understood all too well what Kurt had gone through, would likely _always_ be going through, and was glad Brittany had been there for him, just as Xander had always been a stalwart presence at her own side.

She sent an unobserved watery smile in Xander's direction and nodded her head in thanks at Faith, who had laid a comforting, if tentative, hand on her arm.

Spike snorted, shaking his head, and stomped forward.

"Look here, you adorable little poofter," he barked at Kurt, "you're watching out for your girl and I respect that, but if the only reason you're leaving her here is because she'll be under the care of Doopy, you might as well take her home now. He's completely incompetent. Been saying so for years."

Xander stiffened as Buffy's mouth tightened with rage and Willow's eyes bled black.

"Chill," Faith whispered. "I want to see how the kid handles this." She smirked. "I think we're in for quite a show."

They relaxed only minutely.

Kurt turned to regard the vampire and tilted his head. "Back off, Overbite," he snapped. He ignored Spike's suddenly very wide eyes. "The only advice of yours I would ever heed would be how not to dye my hair."

Faith snickered.

Spike's mouth fell open in shock and he retreated a few paces when Kurt began prowling toward him.

"I don't know who you think you are," Kurt continued, narrowing his eyes, "but if you believe for one second that your opinion is of any relevance whatsoever, allow me to correct your misconception.

"I knew what you were the first moment I looked at you. I don't mean that you're a vampire, of course; anyone with a kindergarten diploma could have spotted that from space. I mean that you're nothing but a pathetic, lovesick, pedantic sycophant desperately clinging to his delusions of adequacy."

"Hot damn!" Faith moaned.

Spike cringed at her words and decided he needed to reestablish his dominance and instill some fear in the little blighter.

"Aw," Kurt cooed, sneering at him, "did I strike a little too close to home? Why don't you drop your pants to prove what a big man you really are? We could all use a good laugh."

"You miserable..."

Kurt threw back his head and cackled. "Do you really think you scare me, you insignificant cockroach? The only terrifying thing about you is your fashion sense, or lack thereof. You dress like disco vomited on New Wave and was then trampled by light metal."

Giles entered the room and arched a brow in bemusement.

Kurt leaned forward and stared into Spike's eyes. "You dare to speak of Alexander in such a derogatory way, yet the only reason you wormed your way into their graces was because you were neutered and as helpless as a fluffy kitten. You preyed on them for years. You tried to kill them multiple times and were a perpetual failure. You tried to turn them against each other to serve them on a platter to your demon robot, and you failed again. Your afterlife has been nothing but a series of missteps, miscalculations, and deficiencies."

Spike growled and meant to rush him, but was held in place by Brittany, who had appeared with no fanfare or herald.

"No one hurts Kurty," she said sweetly, her eyes arctic. "Not that you ever could."

Kurt smirked at the vampire. "You were a pathetic excuse for a human who wrote dreadful poetry, was ridiculed by every woman you encountered, and had mommy issues so paralyzing, it's a wonder you weren't still breastfeeding when you started Oxford."

Faith was howling and hanging off Buffy, whose lips were twitching as though they were being tickled by a feather. Willow conjured a box of popcorn.

"After you were turned," Kurt dispassionately continued, "you desperately clung to an insane vampire who physically and verbally abused you whenever the urge struck; that is, when she wasn't slutting around with Angelus or any number of other nasties. When she left you, you stuck yourself to Buffy's side and continually antagonized her friends, because you knew, despite your depraved love for her, they meant more than you ever would."

"That is _not_ true!" Spike thundered.

"Uh, yeah, it is," Buffy blurted. "I felt something for you, Spike, but if it had ever been a choice between you and them, you would've been dust on the wind."

Kurt nodded. "We'll just skip over how easy it was for the First to manipulate you, shall we, as well as your very embarrassing resurrection. You didn't fit in any better with Angel's team than you did with this one, but I'll give you extra Pitiful Points for hanging in there and trying. And when Angel finally had enough of you, you turned up here."

He raised a brow. "You believe Alexander to be incompetent, you albino annoyance? Correct me if I'm wrong, but other than Brittany and myself, Alexander is the only being in this room not to have died or turned evil and tried to destroy the world, yes?"

Willow turned to Buffy and Faith, holding out the popcorn. "He's got us there."

The girls nodded and helped themselves to buttery goodness.

"Kurt..." Xander tried, blushing and looking quite small and lost.

"Further," Kurt said loudly, drowning him out, "Alexander, by my count, has saved the world singlehandedly on two separate occasions." He looked around the room. "Can anyone else say the same?"

The resulting silence spoke for itself.

He nodded. "If you want to speak of incompetency, William, stick with your own. There's certainly enough there to mine."

Spike opened his mouth and then felt the many hard glares in his direction. He said nothing.

Kurt nodded again, this time with approval. "Very wise. At least you're capable of learning." He turned to Xander and smiled. "Alexander, I know you have a backbone. Use it more often. No one beneath you can ever offend you, and no one your equal would." His eyes softened. "You're a good man." He leered. "A hot one, too. If I didn't have a date tonight, and Tina hadn't already staked her claim, I'd have had you horizontal by now."

Xander's eye widened, his blush now furious, both at Kurt's surprisingly welcome flirting and this supposed staked claim. "Tina?"

Kurt grinned. "She'll be arriving tomorrow. Prepare to be wooed."

"Wooed?" Xander blankly repeated.

"Go X!" Faith cheered.

Buffy and Willow smirked, already plotting as to how best to help Tina seduce their best friend.

"You have a date, Kurty?" asked a hyperactive Brittany.

Giles cleared his throat, crossed to Kurt's side, and held out his arm, which Kurt took. "Dinner awaits. I presume you enjoy nouvelle cuisine?"

Kurt snorted. "Is Willow a lesbian?"

Faith burst out laughing.

"Kurt," Xander interrupted, "how did you know all of that?"

Kurt cocked a hip, tossed his hair, and raised a brow.

Alarms went off in Xander's head, but he was startled from his thoughts when Kurt's eyes suddenly burned white.

"Brittany," he said calmly, "there's a nest three blocks over to the west. Seven vampires and one Fyarl."

Buffy and Willow stared.

Brittany nodded. "I'll suit up."

Kurt turned to Xander and smirked. "Did I mention Cordelia was my cousin?"

Willow flailed as a soft smile took over Xander's face.

Kurt sashayed toward the door, dragging a grinning Giles with him.

"Get some, Jeeves!" Faith hooted.

Kurt winked at her. "It's in the bag."


	8. Conjury

Sam Evans might not have understood what the hell was wrong with this town, but he knew something was.

Paranoid delusions about Hellmouths infiltrated his mind and, for a brief moment, he considered staking out the school library first thing Monday morning, hoping to come across Buffy.

Or Xander.

Yeah, definitely Xander.

He sighed. He really watched too much television. If watching too much _Buffy _could ever really be considered a bad thing, which he didn't believe was possible.

He nervously glanced over his shoulder and saw nothing, but nevertheless quickened his pace. His stupid car had broken down eight blocks back and every storefront he passed was locked up tighter than a drum, despite the fact it was only six in the evening. He had almost burst into tears when the one auto shop he had passed, Hummel's, was dark.

Night had also fallen, despite that daylight savings time wasn't due to end for another month, and he didn't like it. It was also cold, unnaturally so, which he thought was pretty odd for September, even in Ohio. He could see his breath fogging out before him and he tried to blow rings, which sadly didn't work.

"You really are a dork, Sam," he muttered.

He forced himself to take a deep breath and then slowly release it, determined to get his nerves under control. He was sure he was being ridiculous, just worried about starting over in a new town and school. Stevie and Stacy thought it was all some great adventure, but Sam missed his friends and extended family.

School was okay so far, though he had only been attending for a week. The classes were good enough and there was a football team, but the whole place reeked of every possible stereotype ever created, like _The Breakfast Club_ had mated with _Daria_ and spawned William McKinley High. He'd begun some tentative friendships, like the one with Finn Hudson, and he'd joined the glee club, though he'd yet to sing outside of his audition. He wasn't sure that anyone other than Finn and his girlfriend was actually _allowed_ to sing.

Stamping his resentment down, he glanced around and realized he only had four more blocks to go. He was going to be just fine, he knew, knowing he had a tendency to blow, well, _everything_ out of proportion.

He shook his head and quickly crossed the street, hanging a left at the end of the block, only to walk straight into a...

"Oh, my god," he whispered, eyes wide and gagging on the stench of death and decay now assaulting him.

What the hell were fucking _Dementors_ doing in _Lima, Ohio?_

He thrust his hand in his pocket and clumsily fumbled for his wand. Just as he grasped it, the closest Dementor shot forward and grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket. Startled, his wand slid from his grasp.

"Shit!"

The Dementor hauled him a good five feet off the ground as Sam desperately fought to free himself. The grip was too strong, however, and no matter how he flailed, he was unable to wiggle his way out of it, not even enough to slip out of the jacket, which was now coated with a thin layer of ice.

The creature's hood began slipping away and a terrifying mouth edged toward him, and Sam was helpless but to start sobbing. He didn't want to die this way, his soul sucked out and his body rendered a useless shell at which Death laughed but never claimed.

Everything began to slow down and his life literally flashed before his eyes. How absurd. How cliché. He would never see his parents again. He would never tease Stacy again. He would never give Stevie another piggy-back ride.

How the hell had not sensed that Dementors were near? He wasn't stupid. He was more than magically average. How could he have dropped his fucking wand?

He gasped as a white light began slowly trickling from his mouth and devoured by his murderer.

"_Expecto Patronum!_"

Suddenly an enormous silver seahorse wedged itself between Sam and the Dementor, which screamed. Sam screamed as well, as he was abruptly dropped to the sidewalk, collapsing under his own weight.

"I'm still surprised it's not a dolphin," a laughing voice tittered.

"Now's not the time, sweetie," was the reply.

Sam then felt hands under his arms before he was dragged toward the nearest lawn.

"Here," the first voice said, pressing a huge bar of chocolate into his hand. "It will help."

Nodding weakly, Sam tore into the candy and shoved it into his mouth, immediately feeling the effects. He blinked heavily and looked up at his rescuer. His eyes widened. "Quinn?"

"Hi, Sam," she said gently. "Don't worry. It'll be over in a minute."

He blinked again, this time in confusion. What the hell was Quinn Hummel doing here? He barely knew her, had only been introduced in passing during his first Glee rehearsal. Was she a witch? Had she cast the Patronus?

"Okay?" the second voice called out.

"We're fine," Quinn replied. "Just finish this."

Sam turned his head as if in a daze and saw Quinn's twin brother, Kurt, fighting off six Dementors.

"They're very strong," Quinn murmured. "They must have not eaten for quite a while."

"We have to help him!" insisted a woozy Sam.

Quinn laughed lightly. "We'd just get in the way. Kurt will be fine, Sam. Just finish your chocolate."

Five seconds later, it was over. Three of the Dementors had fled, screaming into the night, while the other three had disappeared, their ragged cloaks littering the sidewalk and street.

"He killed them," Sam whispered in horrified fascination.

"Kurt's very powerful," Quinn said. "Defense is his best subject and his Patronus is one of the strongest on record."

"Are you okay?" Kurt demanded, rushing over to them and pulling Sam, and then his sister, to their feet.

"Are _you_ okay?" Sam asked.

Kurt gave him a soft smile. "I'm fine, Sam, thank you for asking. I'm just glad we were in time."

"Me too," Sam blurted. "Thank you. Thank you so much." He then realized that he'd yet to release Kurt's hand.

Kurt blushed and averted his eyes. "No worries, but we really should get you to St. Lilith and have you checked out." He swallowed heavily. "That was very, _very_ close, Sam."

Sam nodded slowly, shivering. "I owe you a life debt," he said quietly, eyes down.

Kurt waved it off. "There are no debts between friends."

Sam promptly raised his gaze and stared into Kurt's eyes. "Is that what we are? Are we friends?"

Kurt gnawed on his lip. "I'd like us to be," he finally said, voice shy and unsure.

"Me too," Sam replied, squeezing Kurt's hand more tightly, pleased when the other boy's blush became furious.

Quinn stood next to them, hip cocked, brow raised, and an obnoxious smirk plain on her face. "He shouldn't Apparate this soon, Kurt. Not after that. You'll have to Side-Along him." She grinned. "Not that that will be a problem. You're already holding hands." She leered at them.

Kurt shot her a look. "You're dating Noah. _Again_."

She grimaced. "He's changed."

Kurt scoffed. "What's changed? His underwear? It's about time."

She beamed. "He doesn't wear underwear."

Kurt shuddered. "That is far too much information. You'd better hope St. Lilith has a Forgetfulness Draught they can immediately prescribe me, or you'll be vanquished before this night is over."

She was unrepentant and unconcerned.

Sam thought this was a good time to interrupt. "We never talked about our duet."

Kurt once again blushed.

Quinn snickered. "How about _I Put a Spell on You?_"

Kurt snarled at her. "How about _Black Magic Woman?_"

She laughed at him.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "We should go. Quinn, go on ahead and let them know we're coming."

She nodded seriously and disappeared with a soft crack.

"Hang on tight, Sam," Kurt instructed.

Sam shuffled forward and drew Kurt into a firm yet tender embrace. "How's this?" he murmured.

Kurt laid his head on Sam's shoulder and smiled. "Perfect."

And then they were gone.


	9. Fraternity

**Author's Note**: This installment is a crossover between _Glee _and _The __Vampire Diaries_, which I've just started watching. I've only seen Season One, so, please, no spoilers in reviews. In terms of setting, let's place this at sometime during Season Two for _Glee_ and Season One for _The Vampire Diaries_. No Blaine, because this is me. I started this with the intention of Kurt and Damon trying to one-up each other, but it evolved into something else. I'm not exactly sure just what that is, but I hope you enjoy it.

Oh, heads up: Kurt _et al_ are loosely based on the _Gloaming_ verse, in that they're witches. Because Kurt with magical powers makes me cream my boxer briefs. :P

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><p>Damon stared at Stefan and Elena with thinly-veiled disgust. They were so nauseatingly in love with each other and their epic romance that he only barely refrained from vomiting all the blood he had ever consumed onto the floor of the Mystic Grill.<p>

He cocked his head and considered more carefully that scenario. It would have been worth it just to watch Matt have to clean it up. He smirked.

As usual, whenever he entertained even a miniscule thought of naughtiness, his brother and the girlfriend had turned to stare at him, both of them arching respective eyebrows. He rolled his eyes. What drags. Sometimes he really wanted to pull the sticks from their asses and then beat them like piñatas.

He really didn't know why he had bothered returning to this ridiculous town trying to pass itself off as some posh suburban mecca. Well, other than to torture Stefan, of course, which was always worth any discomfort he himself might have to endure.

He stilled and felt the little witch glaring at him with what she thought passed as malevolence. He turned from the bar and smiled widely at her, tipping his drink in her direction. It was really too bad she was such a pain in the ass, because he was sure she'd be a freak in the sack. Unfortunately, she had those wonky powers she was still trying to figure out, and he wasn't really interested in becoming her voodoo testing doll.

He pursed his lips as his gaze traveled the restaurant in search of more interesting prey to study. His eyes landed on a group of kids obviously from out of town. They were too busy shouting at the girl who believed herself in charge to notice his scrutiny.

Damon licked his lips. There certainly were some tasty morsels in their little cabal. The arrogant blond princess looked icy, but he was sure she would thaw quickly with the right encouragement. The other blond looked even more ditzy than Caroline, which he hadn't thought was possible, but she appeared to be under the protection of a fiery Latina who looked far scarier than any human had the right to look.

His eyes lighted with glee. He loved lesbians!

The quiet Asian girl made him want to giggle. Her clothes suggested she was into faux vampire culture and he was betting she had read every piece of popular fiction regarding the subject. He imagined that, had he tried to get her alone, she would have demanded that he make himself sparkle. He would enjoy killing her after tying her up with the fake tracks in her hair.

The black girl oozed confidence and menace, and the thought of rendering her into a screaming trainwreck made his cock twitch.

But which one to choose?

Definitely not the mouthy midget who was attempting and failing to boss them all about. She would probably screech a lot while simultaneously posing a litany of questions about his nature.

He scoffed at the alleged men in their company. The kid with the mohawk was a joke, his muscles more about making an impression on the females than indicative of any real physical strength. The tall one had a goofy smile and donned a look of perpetual confusion; he'd be fun to eat. The boy in the wheelchair was wearing an outfit which made Damon's eyes cross, and the Asian boy was so lovesick for his girlfriend, it was like looking at a Chinese Stefan.

The last boy, a fake blond, was looking around anxiously, and Damon couldn't help but wonder for whom he was looking.

The door suddenly flew open and, for the vampire, time stopped.

Who on earth was _this_ delicious creature?

"It's about time the ladyboy pranced his fairy ass inside," Puck groused.

Damon snarled.

"Don't talk about my brother like that!" Finn barked.

Damon's eyes widened to the size of saucers. How in the name of everything unholy could this baboon be related to such unmitigated perfection?

"Shut the fuck up, Puckerman," Santana griped. "Besides, Kurt doesn't prance. He fucking _stomps_."

Damon smirked, deciding he liked this girl. He then cocked his head as he heard Stefan and Elena furiously whispering to each other.

"Is Damon staring at that boy?" asked a shocked Elena.

Stefan murmured that, yes, his brother was indeed staring at said boy.

Elena turned to regard her boyfriend with large eyes. "Does Damon...I mean..."

It was all Damon could do not to burst out laughing.

"My brother appreciates beauty in whatever form it takes," Stefan said, with, surprisingly, no judgment in his tone.

Elena thought about it and nodded. "I guess I can understand that." Her eyes roamed over the latest arrival. "He is very handsome."

"Pretty, I'd say," said a thoughtful Stefan.

Oh, yes, Damon thought. Very pretty indeed.

Kurt stormed up to the table at which his friends were sitting and glared at none of them in particular. "The bus is now repaired," he said. "If you all are fed and watered, it's time to go."

"You actually fixed it?" asked a startled Puck.

Kurt's stare was withering. "What part of _licensed mechanic_ did you fail to grasp? Or was it the polysyllabic words which so confounded you?"

Damon almost swooned.

"You're such a bitch," Puck shot back.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "A wholly uncreative insult from a boy whose head looks like a freshly-waxed vagina. How will I ever survive the shame?"

Damon grinned when he heard Stefan snickering from across the room and repeating the rejoinder to Elena, who burst out laughing.

Santana, meanwhile, had all but collapsed from her own laughter, sliding to the floor and having to be propped up by an equally hysterical Brittany.

"You didn't have to be so mean," said a wounded Puck, his lower lip trembling.

"Oh, Noah," Kurt said quietly, before affixing a sneer to his face, "save it for someone who doesn't know you."

Puck sighed and shook his head before blowing Kurt a kiss. "Why don't you sit on my lap, Princess?"

Damon growled.

Kurt arched a brow. "Because I don't wish to partake in a three-week round of Cipro."

"It's not burning anymore," replied an earnest Puck.

Kurt's eyes widened. "That's not a good thing, Noah."

"I ordered you a salad," said a shy voice.

"Thank you, Sam," Kurt said warmly, running his fingers through the other boy's hair.

That was all the incentive Damon needed to stake his claim. He stalked over toward the boy who had captured his loins, blowing past Matt, who looked up at him in confusion. He felt rather than saw Stefan and Elena coming his way, always ready to interfere in his fun at the drop of a hat.

He shook off the vicious glare the Latina was now throwing at him and paused in his steps once he was all but pressing up against the boy's back. "Hello," he purred.

Kurt gave an exaggerated blink before slowly turning around. He looked Damon up and down, obviously unimpressed, which caused the vampire to furrow his brow in confusion.

"Yes?" Kurt asked in a cranky voice.

"My name is Damon, Damon Salvatore."

"How perfectly fantastic for no one but you."

Puck, Santana, and Quinn snickered.

Damon licked his lips, his cock hardening with every scathing syllable. "Are you new in town?"

Kurt cocked his head and stared at this unwelcome intrusion. "Is that really the best you have to offer?" he finally asked. "How disappointing."

Damon opened his mouth to retort but was summarily cut off.

"Mr. Salvatore," Kurt said, saying the name with an exquisite Tuscan accent, "your interest is flattering, but ill-advised. I'm unavailable, and even if that weren't the case, you're far too old for me." He gave Damon another considering look. "By about a century and a half, I would estimate."

About half of those sitting at the table fell quiet and stared at Damon in horrified fascination. Santana, Brittany, Quinn, Mike, and Sam, however, immediately shot to their feet. Artie whirled around in his chair to face Kurt.

"You know what I am," a shocked Damon said. Rather than irritation or fear, he was experiencing intrigue and something akin to relief. "How...interesting."

Kurt shrugged with boredom. "If you say so. Are we going to exchange threats and intimidation now, or are we done?"

Damon was bemused. "You're going to threaten me?"

Kurt waved a dismissive hand. "Yes, yes. You can snap my neck before I can even blink and then drain all of my friends in the space of a minute. Of course, I doubt you'll do so in full view of the many patrons of this establishment, because you couldn't possibly compel them all to forget what they've seen, even with the help of the other vampire coming our way."

"That might be true," Damon conceded.

"And there's the fact that my brother now has a tranquilizer gun aimed at you from underneath the table, loaded with darts filled with vervain. He's a very good shot."

"Another deterrent," Damon allowed.

"Finally," Kurt said, "I can kill you with my brain."

It was at that moment that Stefan and Elena arrived.

"You're a witch," Stefan surmised.

"Indeed," Kurt replied. He turned and waved toward those who were standing. "My coven." He leaned toward Damon. "Santana is pyrokinetic, so you definitely want to be careful around her," he confided. "She's very testy."

Santana's grin was feral.

"You aren't scared of me," Damon said, blinking harshly with the realization.

"Takes the fun out of it for you, doesn't it?" Kurt asked, smiling.

"Strangely, no."

"How...odd." Kurt said, now frowning. "And vaguely unnerving." His frown deepened. "This isn't going to devolve into one of those tedious fatal attraction scenarios, is it? That would be terribly pedestrian."

"Why are you here?" Stefan asked.

Kurt turned to regard him. "We're a glee club. We're scheduled to perform in a singing exhibition in Richmond." His eyes turned grave. "Nothing more than that, I promise you."

"Uh, is everything okay here?" asked Matt, who had materialized next to Elena.

Kurt gave him a blinding smile. "Everything is just fine, Matthew, thank you."

"How did you know my name?" asked the now suspicious boy.

Kurt's smile became flirtatious. "I make it my business to know the name of the cutest boy in town."

Matt's mouth fell open at the bluntness of the words. It was apparent he was struggling for a reply, but finally settled on blushing lightly and shuffling away, a surprised Elena smirking at his retreating form.

"You're telepathic," Damon said.

Kurt nodded. "I am."

"What other powers do you have?"

"Why are you so interested?"

Damon weighed his options carefully. "May we speak privately for a moment?"

Kurt's eyes hooded.

"What are you doing?" Stefan hissed at his brother.

"Back off," Damon snapped.

Finally, Kurt nodded. "Santana and Sam come with me. The girl and the other vampire stay here."

"Done."

"Aren't you scared of him?" Elena asked Kurt.

"No," was the boy's honest response.

"Why should he be?" Damon asked.

"Perhaps because you're a murdering fiend?" Kurt suggested.

"Well, there's that," Damon agreed.

"Do you know what you're doing?" Stefan asked the boy.

"Do you know Santana can incinerate you with a thought and I can cast a spell which will wipe your existence from the mind of the entire town?" Kurt countered.

"I do now," Stefan said blankly.

"Damon kills people," Elena quietly said.

"That's his nature," Kurt said.

Damon's head almost snapped his neck, he turned it so quickly toward Kurt.

"And that doesn't bother you?" she pressed.

"Excuse me, muffin," Santana drawled, "but isn't the hunk of sinewy goodness attached to your hip also a vampire?"

Elena blushed.

"I find it pointless to ascribe a human morality to a creature who is not, in fact, human," Kurt told her.

Stefan grimaced when he saw the telltale signs of obsession dawning his brother's eyes. "That's some pretty dangerous thinking."

"It's also dangerous to allow this girl to believe that you're anything but what you are," Kurt volleyed. "Instead of handling her, you should be preparing her for what she'll eventually face." He tilted his head. "Or is it her _face_ which has so beguiled you?"

Elena gasped. "You know..."

"Not personally," Kurt interrupted, "but she's rather notorious in supernatural circles and she's in our Book of Shadows. Eventually, she will come here. You'll be targeted." He turned toward Stefan. "You know this."

Stefan swallowed heavily.

Kurt looked at Damon. "Let's talk."

* * *

><p>"Can you hear them?" Elena asked.<p>

Stefan grunted. "No. The blond boy did something to muffle their voices. It must be some innate power he possesses, because he didn't say a spell."

"Do you notice that Damon keeps inching closer and closer to Kurt?" Quinn murmured to Tina, who nodded.

"Sam's playing it close to the vest, but if the vampire doesn't back off, he's in for a world for pain," the other girl said.

"So they're together?" Stefan asked them.

Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Duh," Tina sang.

"You're not like the witches I've known," Stefan said casually, desperately trying to hide his anxiety and confusion.

"Then you haven't met the right witches," Brittany said sweetly.

"I take offense to that," Bonnie said cheerfully, plopping down into Santana's vacated chair.

"Fair enough," Mike said. "Let's just chalk it up to differing traditions."

Bonnie nodded, a small smile on her face. "I'd like to learn more about you."

"That's up to the Triad," Artie said, thumbing in the direction of Kurt, Santana, and Sam.

"Are they your leaders, for lack of a better word?" Elena asked.

"This is a democracy," Quinn said flatly, "but Sam and Santana are two of our strongest. Even combined, however, we're no match for Kurt."

"Jesus Christ," Stefan muttered.

"Do you have your own Book of Shadows?" Mike asked Bonnie.

"I have the spellbook of my many-greats grandmother," she cautiously replied.

He nodded. "When you go home, look for an entry on the Hand. I'm sure there'll be one."

"He's the Hand?" Stefan whispered.

Elena shot him a puzzled look.

Quinn nodded.

"That boy is the most powerful witch on the planet?" Stefan demanded.

Elena's eyes widened before shooting over to study Kurt more closely.

"No," Artie said.

"He's the most powerful witch to walk this planet," Finn clarified. "_Ever_."

"His cousins rank just below him and above us," Brittany added.

"Cousins?" Bonnie repeated.

Stefan closed his eyes. "They wouldn't be three sisters, would they?"

Bonnie paled.

"So you've heard of them," Quinn drawled, smirking. "I'm sure they'll be pleased to know they're so famous."

"Stefan, what is going on?" Elena quietly asked.

"I'll explain everything to you later," he promised. "Kurt was right. I'm doing you no favors by not informing you of absolutely everything."

She carefully nodded.

"I presume we're finished with Show and Tell?" Kurt asked, startling even Stefan.

"Is everything all right?" Elena asked, her eyes traveling back and forth between Kurt and Damon.

"It's just fine," Kurt said, a slight smile on his face, his hand entwined tightly with that of Sam.

Stefan noticed Damon's thunderous look at the gesture, and though Kurt had his back to Damon, he was sure Kurt was aware of it as well.

"Relax, Stefan," Kurt said. "Damon won't hurt me. It's my strength that attracts him, but he's not so stupid as to believe that I can't protect myself and my friends."

"Power is the greatest aphrodisiac," Damon said.

"We just wanted to reach an accord," Kurt continued, ignoring him, "and we have. My coven has no interest in involving itself in the affairs of vampires, let alone the darkness which surrounds this town. That said, if you need our help, we will provide it as long as certain conditions are met."

"What kind of help?" Stefan asked.

"Protection," Santana said. "For her," she added, looking at Elena.

"Me?"

"And for Bonnie," Sam added, smiling at the girl. "Damon also negotiated for Elena's brother Jeremy, that guy Matt, and a girl called Caroline."

"Why would you do that?" Elena asked Damon, who said nothing.

Stefan already knew the answer. He was contemplating how to address it when he noticed Kurt's eyes flash at Sam, who smirked back. Kurt then spun on his heel, his chest coming to rest against Damon's own. Stefan almost laughed at the comical looks of surprise and terror on his brother's face.

"You are not unintelligent," Kurt said to the vampire. "I would not be averse to speaking with you again."

Damon's mouth opened, but before he could say anything, Kurt leaned over and gently kissed his cheek.

"You have my number," Kurt continued, "use it if necessary." He raised a brow. "And by necessary, I mean a dire apocalypse, not informing me of what you are or are not wearing."

Damon leered. "Already picturing me naked?"

Kurt looked at Tina. "Should I bother?"

She gazed at Damon and, suddenly, her eyes flashed white.

"Oh, my god," Elena breathed.

"X-ray vision," Kurt explained. "Well?" he asked Tina.

"Impressive," she admitted, "but he's no Sam."

Kurt smiled softly. "No one ever could be."

Sam blushed and pulled Kurt tightly against him.

"Aw," cooed Brittany, Mercedes, Finn, Rachel, and Elena.

Santana, Tina, and Artie rolled their eyes.

"They're nauseatingly adorable," Mike whispered to Damon.

"I'm familiar with the horror," he said, eyes landing on Stefan and Elena.

"Dude," Mike said, "you've got it way worse. You brother looks like he broods a lot. Did he watch too many episodes of _Angel _or something?

A delighted peal of laughter burst out of Damon's mouth, and he looked just as surprised by it as Elena and Stefan.

Stefan scowled. "And what does that make you, Damon? Spike?"

Kurt eyed Damon. "If you ever did that to your hair, I'd have to take steps."

"Noted," Damon replied, grinning like a loon.

"We have to get going," Mercedes piped up. "The hotel will only hold our reservations so long."

"You could stay at our house," Damon said, looking at Kurt longingly. "We have more than enough room."

"What is _wrong_ with you?" demanded an exasperated Stefan. "Are you drunk?"

Damon opened his mouth but abruptly fell silent when Kurt laid a hand on his chest.

"Stefan, why do you love Elena?" Kurt asked.

Elena ducked her head.

"Because she understands me. She makes me...better," Stefan replied.

Elena smiled.

Kurt nodded. "You feel that she knows you, that she was - and please forgive the lame cliché - made for you to love. Is it really so inconceivable that your brother might want the same thing? Someone who will love him not in spite of what he is, but because of it?"

Stefan gaped at him.

"Let's not get carried away," Damon weakly blurted.

Kurt shushed him, his eyes remaining fixed on Stefan. "You think he's evil because he embraces who he is, and perhaps that is the case. You think he's a monster, and maybe he is, but, at the end of the day, no matter who or what he might be, Stefan, he's still your brother. You believe Elena was created to walk with you through this life, correct? Is that not also true of Damon?"

"Not at all," Stefan seethed.

"Then I feel sorry for you," Kurt said quietly. "You're not superior to him because you don't feed from humans. You're not better than him because you try not to kill. You deny him because you want to deny yourself, but here's a question I'm sure you try not to think on too closely: what would you be without him?"

Stefan trembled with emotion.

"We can't know love without hate, Stefan, nor peace without violence. Elena might be your soulmate, your salvation, but Damon is your other half. You easily could have been him. Friends, lovers...they come and go, but you will always have your family. You might think of it as a curse, but that's true only if you allow it to be. I was alone my entire life. My mother died when I was a child. I never thought I'd have the privilege of a sibling, but then my dad married Carole, and I got Finn for a brother."

Finn gave him a blinding smile.

Kurt smiled back at him fondly. "We're nothing alike. We don't have the same beliefs, the same friends, or the same orientation. We have no common interests, we have different styles of dress and speech, and we don't enjoy the same hobbies or subjects. I'm magical, and he's not." He looked back to Stefan. "But he's my brother and always will be. Nothing will ever change that, nor would I want that to happen. _Ever_." His face became stony. "As much as we frustrate each other, as often as we fight and hurt one another, we are family."

He held out his hand and Finn grasped it, a bright, white light erupting at the contact.

"That's our bond," Kurt said. "It will never be broken." He released Finn's hand and leaned over toward Stefan. "If _anyone_ tried to hurt my brother, I would kill them, without hesitation and without remorse, and Finn would do the same for me."

Finn nodded frantically.

"If you really believe that Damon wouldn't do the same for you, then you don't know him as well as you think. If you don't believe you wouldn't avenge his suffering, you don't know yourself."

He stood up straight and signaled to the others, all of whom rose to their feet.

"Vampires might be long-lived, Stefan, but you're not immortal, not truly. You can be killed. Damon can be killed. If the idea that you could lose your brother doesn't terrify you, if the enmity that lies between you is more important than the fact that you're family, then you're not nearly as human as you'd like to believe."

Kurt turned around and stared hard at Damon. "That goes for you, too. You really should get it together, Damon, and try not to die. I might actually miss you."

Damon snorted. "You'd be the only one."

Kurt chuckled and patted the vampire's cheek. "It's sad that you really believe that." He turned toward his friends. "Mr. Schuester is waiting for us. If we don't leave now, we'll endure a lecture all the way back to Ohio."

Several of them groaned, while others rolled their eyes.

"I don't want to walk all the way back there," Finn whined.

"Oh, I never said anything about that," Kurt said, grinning, placing several bills on the table, enough to cover the meal and a large tip. "Sam, if you would?"

Sam nodded, closed his eyes, and Elena and the vampires could feel something happening, though they weren't sure of what. They felt a distinct bubble forming around them, sheets of air pressing up against their skin.

"Sam's abilities are better left unexplained," Kurt said to them. "Everyone else, join hands."

Puck grumbled about having to hold Finn's hand. Finn responded by crushing Puck's fingers.

Kurt winked at Damon. "Guess who can teleport?"

And just like that, they were gone, and no one in the restaurant was any the wiser.

Bonnie shook her head in wonder.

"What the hell was that?" Elena asked no one in particular.

"Provocative," Stefan said quietly.

"Awesome," Damon said.

"You actually like him," Stefan said.

Damon smirked. "You have no idea. I don't think I do, either, really, but I'm looking forward to finding out."


End file.
